


a way a lone a last a loved a long the

by LightningRidgeBlackOpal



Series: riverrun [1]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: A plot?, AU, Alternate Universe - High School, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Ass Play, Crushes, Dirty Talk, First Time, High School, M/M, Marijuana, Shane Madej Has a Big Dick, Stripping, They are like 17 or 18?, Truth or Dare, Underage Drinking, blowjob, casual nudity, seniors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 00:14:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18083690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightningRidgeBlackOpal/pseuds/LightningRidgeBlackOpal
Summary: “I concede most of the points raised, but I’m still not playing truth or fucking dare,” he says. Everyone in the circle groans, booing him, and someone tosses an empty solo cup so that it bounces off his head.





	a way a lone a last a loved a long the

**Author's Note:**

> Underage warning because they are Seniors in high school but I didn't specify if they are 17/18/whatever.

a way a lone a last a loved a long the

“Listen,” Ryan starts. Shane rolls his eyes so he cuts himself off, pouting. There’s a heat across his cheeks that tells him the alcohol is kicking in and the flush across Shane’s face tells him that he’s at least not as bad off as his friend.

 _So what_ , he thinks, _if I get too drunk_. It’s the last weekend before their last week of high school and he can’t find it within himself to feel guilty for being at a party. A little, maybe, for lying to his mother; but it wasn’t completely a lie, right? He is going to be spending the night at Shane’s place, they just made a quick detour. Or maybe a slow detour. They had detoured from the original plan, anyway.

He’s finding it hard to concentrate, but he wants to defend his argument anyway. “There is nothing _childish_ about truth or dare,” he says and Shane moves to speak but he continues on in crescendoing volume, “people play it at _College_ and that’s like, the least childish place. It’s silly, it’s fun, it can be dirty, and it’s perfect for a bunch of drunk teenagers!”

Shane is quiet, leaning back and forth slowly like his balance is off. Sara, sat on the other side of the circle of people who had formed around the bong in the garage, says, “I think it’s a great idea,” and Shane spins in his rolling desk chair to glare at her. “Like, what the hell else are we doing with our lives?” she asks and Shane groans while Ryan pumps his fist in victory.

“I concede most of the points raised, but I’m still not playing truth or fucking dare,” he says. Everyone in the circle groans, booing him, and someone tosses an empty solo cup so that it bounces off his head. The rest of the group erupts in laughter, but Ryan stares his best friend down silently. He has a tendency to get in these moods, these dig-his-heels-in-stubborn-as-a-mule moods where he refuses to listen to anyone else no matter what. When they were younger, when they didn’t know each other as well as they do now, they used to fight over it constantly. Ryan can’t count how many times he came home early, left Shane’s too late at night but had refused to try desperately to humor him while he sulked.

“If you don’t play you have to go back to the party, and deal with Keith and Zack puking all over the bathroom floor,” Sara says dully.

“Yeah,” Eugene agrees, “and you can’t smoke any more of my weed.”

It takes a moment, but his posture loosens and his long arms untangle to hang loosely at his sides and he lets out a death rattle as he slides down to slump in the chair. “Fine,” he says eventually, “but I want it on record that I am not doing this of my own will.”

There’s a round of cheers, and Ryan finally speaks up. “Stop being so dramatic,” he says and his only reply is a glare.

*

“Okay, that was fun,” Sara says, moving to sit back in her spot in the circle after making out with Eugene. Her lips are red and flushed. Her hair is a mess. Eugene has a hickey blooming dark and vibrant on his neck, just below his jaw. “Hmmmmm. Shaney, truth or dare.”

“I dare you not to call me that,” Shane replies dully, pulling his mouth back from the bong and passing it over to Ned.

“Too bad. Did anyone else hear Shaney say dare?” she replies, and everyone in the circle raises their hands. “Great,” she continues, her tone and face taking on a menacing light. Ned coughs out a cloud of smoke, passes it over to Ryan. “I dare you to spend the rest of the game naked.”

Ryan loses track of what he’s doing, almost drops the lighter down the long stem of the bong into the water. Shane stares her down, statue still. The group jeers and wolf whistles. It’s a long moment before anyone moves, and when the stillness is broken it’s just Brent, elbowing Ryan to keep the circle going and pass the bong. He does, and when he looks back over his eyes open wide because Shane has wordlessly stood up and is confidently stripping his shirt off.

His fingers hesitate on the waist of his jeans, but only for a second. His eyes are locked on Sara’s, like he’s waiting for her to call it off or amend her dare, but he doesn’t hesitate once he’s got the fly undone to kick off his shoes, toe off his socks, and drop his pants to the concrete floor. He isn’t wearing underwear, Ryan notes somewhere, distantly.

He’s seen Shane naked before, sure. They’ve been friends since middle school, they’ve skinny dipped and showered after workouts and changed in the same room and a million other things that friends do together all the time without ever thinking about it. This time, though, is different. This time, he’s definitely thinking about it. He’s glad for the flush on his cheeks from the booze, because without it his blush would be obvious.

He’s all strong lines; long, long, the whole of him. A long neck and long arms and a long, lithe torso with a long trail of hair down the front from his chest to his pubic hair to his long, thick dick. It’s impressive, certainly much bigger than the last time Ryan had seen it (though it was night, in October, and they were in a lake, then) and the way he’s standing there still, confidently showing off ( _peacocking_ , Ryan’s mind says unhelpfully) says that he knows just how impressive it is.

“Come on, give us a little spin,” Sara teases, “the Emperor in his fancy new clothes.” Shane does, without preamble and without a glare and without any hesitation. He spins and Ryan catches an eyeful of his ass and he spins back and then sits roughly down on his chair, legs spread wide, teasing.

“Jesus,” Ned says. The group laughs, but Ryan can see he’s not the only one checking Shane out. Eugene and Sara have yet to look away.

“Eyes up here,” Shane jokes. Maybe it’s a joke at least, it comes out awkward and stilted, like his bravado is wilting the longer he’s naked. “Ryan, truth or dare,” he says, staring him down and making Ryan’s eyes jump up from the angle between his friend’s hip bone and thigh, the patch of hair in the dip the only thing he can still see from this angle.

He doesn’t answer at first. His head isn’t working properly. _Is this what short-circuiting feels like_ , he thinks. “Uh,” he says, and then his voice cuts out on him. He doesn’t know where to look, eyes bouncing between his friend’s stomach and chest and arms and legs and finally to his face. Shane, the smug bastard, is grinning like the big bad wolf; like he’s just caught himself dinner. “Truth,” Ryan blurts out eventually.

“You regret suggesting we play truth or dare,” Shane says simply, like it’s a fact and not a question. Ryan’s still catching up, so he sips from his cup absently and tries to focus on whatever Shane is asking him. Suddenly his mind is full of all sorts of awful ideas, and he does regret the game because his dick is getting hard in his sweats and he knew he should have worn jeans instead and _Shane wasn’t wearing underwear_ and there’s just a lot going on right now. He shifts a bit in his chair, and Shane’s grin wanes a bit, like he recognized the way Ryan moved as trying to hide an erection and now maybe he’s the one who regrets everything.

“No way, I’m just waiting to see how anyone can top that dare,” he answers finally and Sara grins from across the circle. “Eugene, truth or dare,” he says.

“Dare.”

“I dare you to kiss the person in this room that you think is the hottest.”

Eugene moves in several directions at once, like he’s going to head for Sara again but then second guesses and goes to step toward Ned. Eventually, though, he just laughs. “Wouldn’t have said this before about five minutes ago but,” he says and then walks over to Shane, eyeing him up and down one last time before grabbing his jaw and pulling him in for a crushing kiss. Ryan wants to go back in time and stop himself from ever suggesting this game in the first place by any means necessary. It isn’t that he’s jealous, exactly. Right? He isn’t sure. He’s fairly sure he’s straight, but the idea of Shane’s cheeky grin hovering over his face and his hands all over Ryan’s skin has him flushed and burning. So maybe something to consider. Later, while he isn’t in the same room as his best friend’s huge cock. _Well shit_ , Ryan thinks, _maybe definitely something to consider_.

“Shane, truth or dare.”

“Truth.” People begin to boo him again but he shrugs roughly, says, “I’m already fucking naked. What more do you people want from me?” He seems to reconsider posing the question a second too late, and the look on Sara’s face says that Shane should definitely choose truth every single round from now on for his own safety.

“Have you ever, or do you currently, have a crush on anyone in this room?” Eugene asks.

“Well, sure,” he replies, dully. Eugene raises an eyebrow, gestures for him to continue.

“Who?” Eugene supplies and Shane just gives him a look.

“That’s two questions. I answered the truth you asked me.”

The game continues for far too long. The hours slipping into morning rather than night, and people are steadily leaving the circle. Shane is still naked, like he’s stubbornly waiting for Sara to call it. Ryan can’t believe she’s still going when she says, “Shaney, truth or dare?”

Shane sighs, groans. His arms are crossed in front of his belly (protective, defensive posture) and he seems like he’s about to admit defeat before he says, “truth,” dutifully.

“Who was the person in the room you did, and or do, have a crush on?” she asks, and Ryan had completely forgotten about that, about Eugene’s unanswered question from at least three hours ago. From the glare in his eyes, Shane had not forgotten.

“Ryan, okay? It was Ryan. It is Ryan. Now, Sara, truth or dare.”

“Dare.”

“I dare you to end the game.”

“Oh, you sneaky bastard! I was wondering when you’d think of that… fine. Considering we’re the last three people here and Eugene took his weed with him and we need more alcohol anyway… I declare this game of truth or dare over.”

Shane wastes no time, standing up and pulling his jeans back on while Ryan studies the slight trickle of liquor left behind in his cup. He feels sober. Shane had just been saying that, right? To end the game? And because they were best friends so it wouldn’t matter and word wouldn’t spread around and… and a million other possible reasons. But he’d so steadfastly obeyed the rules that he didn’t even get dressed after everyone else had left, had waited for the game to end. His mind in a whirlwind, and then he sees long fingers hovering in the air over his shoulder. His attention startles up and to Shane. “You ready to go, Ry?” he asks. His eyes are on the ground, on the wall, everywhere but on Ryan. He nods, and lets Shane help him up off the chair, and they walk through the nearly empty house and sneak out the back door and off toward Shane’s.

*

His room is exactly how Ryan remembered it from this afternoon, and from (nearly) every Friday afternoon and Saturday morning since he was twelve. Somehow, though, the space feels endlessly large and looming around him. Like maybe he’s shifted out of time with the universe around him and now he’s adrift. Like maybe something changed and he wasn’t paying attention. He’s staring up at the ceiling when Shane groans and rolls over, turns to face him.

“What is it?” he asks. Ryan says nothing, so Shane speaks again. “I can _feel_ you thinking dude. What’s bothering you? Is it… is it what I said?”

“No!” Ryan says, a little too quickly. In his peripheral he can see the soft outline of Shane’s face wince in the darkness, caught off guard by his brusque tone and lack of elaboration. “It’s not that, I figured you didn’t mean it…” he says and Shane opens his mouth to speak but Ryan turns to face him, finally. “Maybe it’s just… maybe I wanted you to mean it? Maybe I’m…”

He doesn’t know what to say, and through the gentle sound of Shane’s breaths continuing uninterrupted for minutes he thinks maybe neither of them know what to say. He feels Shane shift, feels a hand (a big hand) perch gently on his shoulder. “Maybe I am too,” Shane says, clearly having filled in the blanks around Ryan’s partial admission. A game of hangman they both seem to have won without saying anything. Guess the word! Gay? Bi? Queer? No, yes, maybe so.

Ryan rolls back onto his back but it just pulls Shane closer, anchored by the hand on his shoulder. He hasn’t let go, or pulled back, or moved at all. “I meant it, Ry. I wasn’t just saying it,” Shane says.

“I don’t think… I ever let myself think about it. About you. I’ve never, I’m not… Christ, Shane this is so…” His thoughts are half-formed and drifting loosely around his head like the weed smoke in the garage. He can’t seem to get anything out. He can’t stop picturing the smug smirk on Shane’s face when he caught Ryan staring.

“I never thought, for a second, that anything would come of it. But you’re fucking adorable dude. I’ve had a crush on you since I moved here.”

Ryan raises a hand to Shane’s neck, his cheek, down and around to his back. He rolls to face him again, they’re facing each other; and it’s so dark in the room, and it’s so quiet, and he feels sober and afraid like a child. Brave, foolish, like a child. So he tugs gently at Shane and he comes willingly and their lips crash together on the too-small bed in Shane’s room. Where just that afternoon they’d been playing video games and teasing each other. It reminds him of when they’d kissed once before, just kids who had never been kissed seeing what the fuss was about.

“Fuck,” Ryan says into Shane’s mouth and he moans in response. In one motion he swings himself over Ryan and straddles his hips and Ryan just knows that Shane can feel how hard he is. Shane leans down to kiss him more and Ryan realizes that he’s hard too, that the long, thick line of him is heavy and pressing into his hip and picturing that big cock (bigger, now, somehow, surely) has Ryan pulling in a ragged gasp.

Shane’s hands are all over him, across his chest and his stomach and down his thighs and under and around to his ass and up along his back as he arches up. Shane’s hands are fire-hot and burning trails across his skin. He grips into Shane’s back with his nails and Shane pants against his neck. “Jesus, Ryan,” he mumbles, “do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

“Do you have any idea how fucking hot you are?”

Their conversation stops, stifled between their lips as hands roam and wander. He forgets where he is, he forgets everything except the solid line of his best friend’s dick against his hip and the pressure against his dick from Shane’s thigh and hot hot heat between them.

Shane pulls back, sits up and inadvertently presses his thigh harder against Ryan. “Truth or dare,” he says and Ryan laughs against his better judgment.

“Dare.”

“Dare you to get naked.”

Ryan doesn’t bother answering, just lifts his hips so Shane can pull his shorts down and off and drops back down onto the bed when his erection slips out and slaps against his stomach. Shane’s eyes are on him in an instant, his hands seconds behind, his mouth following up quickly. It’s all too much, the image of Shane’s eyes looking up from between his thighs and Shane’s lips stretched around his dick and Shane’s tongue flicking around and inside his foreskin and he’s panting wildly. His hips buck up and Shane makes an odd noise, pulling back long enough to rest one of his long arms across Ryan’s hips and pin him down. The air of the room is stifling hot but compared to the velvet heat of Shane’s mouth the contrast has Ryan whining into his own arm, biting down to keep quiet. Shane goes back in for more and Ryan has never been so turned on; not when he first discovered porn, or when he lost his virginity, not ever.

“Ah…” he tries to say, trailing off into a whimper when Shane bottoms out and presses his nose firmly against his pelvis, into the hair. “Tr… Truth or dare?” he forces out in between gasps and pants and Shane slides off lasciviously. His eyes say dare. “Dare you to fuck me.”

“Jesus, Ryan.” Shane says. It’s reverent. It’s shocked. It’s so fucking low and rough and his lips are so so red. “You sure?” he asks and Ryan drags him up with a hand on either side of his jaw to kiss him roughly.

“Yes, yes, yes. I’m sure. I want that big cock inside me. Fuck, Shane.” Ryan would continue, but Shane growls and dives in to bite at his lips and neck. “I don’t even know if I can take that big of a dick but damn if I don’t wanna try.”

“Shut up,” Shane says fondly, and then reaches over to his bedside table to fondle around inside the drawer. Ryan’s hands have followed a path down and down and down and dipped inside Shane’s pajamas and when his hand closes around his dick it feels even bigger than it had looked. It’s fat and long and it’s going to be a struggle to get used to. This isn’t the first time something has gone in his ass, he’s used his fingers and toys before (just curiosity! he would tell himself, just curiosity and exploration!) but Shane’s dick is easily the biggest thing he’s tried by far.

Ryan hears a pop of a cap and then feels Shane palm roughly at his ass again. “Fuck,” he says. Shane leans in to kiss him, once more for good measure, and then one of his long fingers is toying at the rim of his ass and Ryan goes pre-verbal. “Fuck,” Shane agrees, teasing Ryan’s hole with slick fingers. He presses one in and Ryan moans long and low and slow.

“Jesus, Ryan. You been fucked before? You been fucking yourself?” Shane says and Ryan can’t respond, can hardly breathe. A second finger joins the first and Shane finally tears his eyes away from Ryan’s face, mutters, “so fucking beautiful,” and becomes entranced by the way his finger disappears into him. He pushes in and out, slowly, and then crooks his finger this way and that like an experiment. Ryan is shaking apart around him, his cock hard and flushed and his skin pulled back and precum dripping from the fat head of it. Shane licks it, licks some of the precum up off Ryan’s thigh and teases the head of his cock and Ryan can only toss his head back and forth on the pillow, whimpering and groaning and keeping his mouth shut to bury the noise of it.

Shane keeps going, keeps toying and stretching and adding until he decides he wants to experiment. He’s watched porn, right, is his idea. And he’s seen some stuff that he was curious about. And when he was dating his ex, eating her out was his favourite thing, maybe. So he leans in and licks a stripe in between two of his fingers where he’s holding Ryan’s hole open and the way it quivers and puckers (and the way Ryan starts swearing like a primal chant) has him diving in far more confidently. He pulls his fingers out, uses his hands to spread Ryan’s cheeks apart and slides his tongue in and out and across, pulls out all the tricks he’s learned.

He gets the distinct feeling that Ryan wants to say something but he’s overwhelmed. He pauses, teases at one of Ryan’s balls with the tip of his tongue, and returns to working with his fingers.

“You’re going to fucking kill me,” Ryan manages eventually. Shane’s been fingering him and tonguing at him for so long that he doesn’t think he can get any more ready. “Just put it in. Just fucking give it to me, dude,” he says and the jagged tone of his voice has Shane sitting up, stripping off his shorts completely, and lining up with one hand.

“Is this okay? Do you want a condom?” he asks, because he knows he should. Ryan doesn’t answer for a second, debating it. “I, yeah. Yeah. We should be safe.”

He leans over again, reaching for his nightstand (again) while Ryan sits up and meets him, biting marks into his neck (again) and distracting him. Eventually, he’s ready, and he lines up again, and he’s shaking and Ryan is shaking and the two of them are shaking against each other. Their lips are just parted, just barely a breath between them, and they’re both panting. Shane goes to push in, the head slipping in easily but the rim catching on him as his dick widens out. Ryan, to his credit, remains shockingly quiet. At least, up until Shane shifts forward to push further in and he feels the rest of his best friend’s cock filling him up. Deeper and wider than any toy he’s used. He stifles a shout by biting Shane’s shoulder and it dies, reborn as a keening whimper when Shane bottoms out. Shane redirects his mouth, pulling it from his shoulder and pressing their lips together as he pulls his hips back (slowly) and then snaps them forward.

He sets a pace which keeps Ryan on his toes (metaphorically) in that it is steady each time he finds one but he is constantly switching things up, switching his angle and switching his speed and finding new ways to surprise Ryan. He can’t keep up. He feels like he’s overheating and chilled to the core and shaking apart. He feels so full up, when Shane bottoms out and buries his cock inside. He pauses there, often, like he’s reveling in the feeling of Ryan around him. It’s all too much.

“I’m not going to last long,” Shane groans. His hand (long fingers!) wraps itself around his cock and this is where Ryan crosses a threshold. He cannot speak, his mouth moves soundlessly as he gasps, Shane’s hand is keeping pace with his hips and it’s breakneck speed. Ryan jerks, his back leaving the mattress and a startled “Oh!” passing his lips as his orgasm overwhelms him and his dick jerks wildly out of Shane’s hand and twitches as he comes undone. He sprays up his chest and to his jaw, cumming all over himself harder than he has before in his life.

“Oh,” Shane echoes, pressing himself forward and leaning down to capture Ryan’s lips in another searing kiss while his (big) dick twitches deep inside of him. He groans into it, breathing heavily against Ryan’s neck when he pulls his face away from his lips. He moves back, resting on his knees, and slides the condom off.

Ryan still hasn’t recovered when Shane leans down and starts licking his dick, and his hip, and his stomach and chest. Works his way up to his jaw and licks off the cum before kissing him again - filthy and wet and such a shock to Ryan that he can’t help but moan into it.

*

“Listen,” Ryan starts. Shane rolls his eyes so he cuts himself off, pouting. There’s a heat across his cheeks that tells him he still looks fucked out and wild. “Serious, Shane. We should talk about this a little bit, right?” Shane seems intent on ignoring him, but it’s hard with Ryan’s fist wrapped around his morning wood and the bright sun of Summer morning streaming through his curtains. “Truth or dare?” Ryan asks, smirking.

“Truth.” Shane answers, without a single thought.

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY So I have accidentally started writing smut and RPF and this just happened. I wrote 'Paradigms' last night and orphaned it because I didn't think to just... make an account that people from real life don't know about to post it so, hi. I am here in this fandom now.
> 
> I am... definitely going to write more about these spooky boys. Maybe even more of this specific AU? College years? I don't even know what my life has become.
> 
> Title from Finnegan's Wake by James Joyce


End file.
